


Light the Way, Little One

by LittleMissLucid



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Gift Giving, Usual fretting over formatting, don't ask me to come up with titles, fluff??, or summaries, some characters/people are mentioned also, spooky Grimm Troupe is spooky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-10-21 14:28:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20695073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissLucid/pseuds/LittleMissLucid
Summary: In a brief intermission from their main duties, a knight decides to give a small gift.





	Light the Way, Little One

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I usually save my nutty rambling for the end, but basically, this is my first complete Hollow Knight fanfiction. Hello to you too. I've been completely obsessed with this game for maybe two and a half months, so this was going to happen eventually.  
I'm not super confident in my writing skill but ehh. You have to practice somehow. Anyways, please enjoy.

The “dance” was fast and spirited but terribly violent, and Ghost couldn’t help but feel relieved when the flames finally dissipated. A thick layer of gray ash covered most of their body and when they touched their cloak, their hand came away with a grayish stain. Ghost reached down to dust themselves off a bit and noticed a round, colorful object lying on the patched floor of the tent. Had that always been there? Ghost’s body already screamed from being strained and burned, but they pushed the pain to the back of their mind. The little knight bent down to pick up the object and turned it over, revealing it to be one of their own charms. They looked around and saw more familiar-looking objects of varying sizes and colors scattered around the tent. Their belongings must have scattered everywhere while they were fighting the circus master. Ghost had already started to reach for another charm before it occurred to them to sign an apology to the master, though they weren't sure if he had seen.

It took a few minutes to gather up all the charms on the floor, and by that time, the vessel’s little hands were full. They carefully tipped the small pile into their charm pouch, which, while singed at the edges, had been mostly untouched by the flames.

Ghost then turned their attention to some of the other things that had fallen out, making a mental note to themselves to get more secure cases. The other objects on the floor were mostly useless, anyway— a single foul-smelling egg that appeared to be pulsating, blackened scraps of parchment, a polished silver statuette with a pointed crown, and a handful of pale— no, white— tear-shaped things.

… oh.

Ghost's small hand dove into a fold of their cloak and desperately reached into every corner of the fabric. Surely it would be there, right? Or maybe they took it out before the fight? Their hand brushed against something thin and smooth and they pulled it out. No, it was definitely there.

In their hand sat the droopy stem and center of what had been a whole flower a short while ago. Ghost had intended to bring it up to Dirtmouth as a gift, and now they almost felt like slapping themselves for getting caught up in the heat of the dance and forgetting about it. One after another, wild thoughts crept into their head, to apologize, to run out of the tent, or to just do something. But no, they continued to stare sadly at the remains of the plant, their shoulders slumped. 

A sudden sound caused the vessel to raise their head. The Troupe Master was looking down at them, and he appeared to be… clapping? Ghost only had a second to wonder why before Grimm spoke. “My kin and I give you our thanks, friend.” he rasped after his applause was finished. “Such a splendid performance! That was the most invigorating dance we have witnessed in a long time. Are you not pleased with the results?” He had noticed their distress. Ghost gave a small shake of their head and quickly shoved the ruined flower back into their cloak. However, it was a bit too late to hide it. “What is in your hand?” The vessel flinched and shook their head again. Even if he had seen already, there was no way they could give it to him!

Grimm’s scarlet gaze softened and he held out one of his hands in a seemingly cordial way. “My friend,” he began, “if there is something troubling you, I ask that you tell me. Though we are bound together by the ritual, don’t you think we should take some time to get to know each other?”  
That was a bit ironic coming from someone who purposely kept everything about this “ritual” vague. Of course, Ghost thought as they shuffled their tiny feet, it would be rude to say that. Very rude indeed. Reluctantly, they reached into their cloak and presented the sagging flower stem to the Troupe Master.

“A stem? Of a flower?” Grimm's long fingers reached for it. “But why…” Something changed in his expression and the hand dropped back to his side. “My friend… did you, by any chance… bring this for me?”

Ghost nodded and looked away. 

Silence filled the tent. Then there was a rustle of fabric and something warm brushed against the side of the pale figure’s face, emitting joyful squeaks. The Grimmchild was back, and judging from how fiercely they nuzzled Ghost’s mask, they were determined to make up for the time they had spent away from the vessel.

Warmth spread through the tiny creature’s body, and they turned to return the affectionate gesture by patting the now-larger child’s head. In doing so, they happened to glance in the circus master’s direction. 

It wasn’t at all what they expected. Grimm was as still as a statue and his bright red eyes were wider than usual, fixed on a point above the vessel’s head. It didn’t even seem like he noticed that his child had gone to greet the knight. This was the first time Ghost had seen the elegant bat lose his composure. They would even daresay he looked shocked. Had he never received a present in his life? 

The sound of wings flapping filled the air and Grimmchild flew back to their father’s side. They mewed in confusion and flew back and forth in front of Grimm’s face. The tall bat blinked once and held out his hand as a roost for the child before he looked down at the vessel and gave a small cough. “I apologize for my lack of grace, dear friend. Your gift has touched me to my very core. For that, you have my sincere thanks. And…” He suddenly seemed very interested in the Grimmkin still sitting in the stands. “Well, I don’t suppose ‘I'm sorry’ would be good enough. You showed me kindness, and I rejected it in such a brutish manner.” 

It was awkward. Ghost wondered if it would be wise to remind him that he hadn't known about the gift beforehand. Or maybe they should tell him that they could just get more flowers. Instead, they did nothing and resigned themselves to watching their friend mew happily and play with Grimm’s fingers. The Troupe Master himself now seemed oddly distracted— he muttered inaudible words and his other hand was restless, flying into exaggerated gestures and fumbling with his cloak. Ghost briefly wondered what he was up to just as he suddenly began to speak again. What was with him? They felt a prickle of annoyance at Grimm's apparent foresight but listened to the Troupe Master's words anyway.

"Why don't I make it up to you, little one? It's the least I could do, after all. I ask that you return here later for our next dance."

Another dance? Ghost signed their incredulity in a flurry of finger movements. What could be accomplished with another battle?

Grimm threw his head back and laughed. Since his vocal chords sounded as if they had been chopped up with a burning butter knife, it wasn’t a pleasant sound to listen to. "The little Vessel is a fast learner!" he cackled. "No, my friend, I mean the definition that most bugs are more familiar with. I assure you that there will be less fire involved."

While that was a relief to hear, Ghost still had no idea what he was talking about, though the clumsy moves they made to dodge attacks in combat probably weren’t it. They signed as such to the ringmaster, who merely looked amused. "Imagine that! Not knowing how to dance! Do not worry about it— I will teach you myself." Grimm gently nudged his child with his free hand. He gave the child a loving pat and watched them return to the vessel. "I've kept you long enough, I think. Go and rest. Nobody can be in the limelight forever."

Resting sounded like a good idea. Ghost attempted to bow to the circus master to say goodbye, but the action was enough to unbalance the creature and it sent them crashing to the patterned floor. As if they hadn't already made a fool of themselves in front of an audience today.

A frantic chittering exploded from near the left side of their head, and something warm repeatedly headbutted the vessel’s mask and sides. While not really painful, it was coupled to the sluggish churning of void in their shell and resulted in a downright nauseating feeling.

Somewhere above them came clucking sounds. "Child, your compassion is touching, but I believe there are more efficient ways to help your friend.” Ghost felt themselves being lifted into the air by something warm. Someone’s hands? Their fingernails were a bit sharp, but they held the vessel gingerly. “My, my. Sleepy, aren’t we? I suppose that makes two of us. Rest well.”

***

The knight woke up on a bench outside with a cool breeze on their mask. They couldn't remember how they summoned the energy to lug themselves outside, but it seemed like Elderbug had an idea. The usually stoic bug seemed a bit twitchy and was mumbling to himself, though he started when he noticed that Ghost was awake. He rushed for the bench and opened his mouth to say something, but his words were drowned out by a screech of excitement. Something black and scarlet swooped down and smashed into the vessel's face, causing Ghost to stumble and fall into the back of the bench. Grimmchild's elated expression filled the pale figure’s line of sight and they continued to make cheerful sounds while hugging their friend’s mask with their tendrils.

Ghost carefully pulled the child off their face and settled them down on the bench. Just then, the Elderbug, who had clearly been giving the little devil a wide berth, scooted forward and looked over the vessel. “You were in there for an awfully long time. I was starting to get worried, but I’m glad to see that sinister bunch didn’t do any lasting damage to you.” He put a hand over his shell. "But goodness, they need to stop scaring me like that! When I saw you all beaten up, I could just feel my little heart break."  
The creature couldn't help but feel a bit guilty about that, so they reached over to Elderbug to get his attention. They waved their arms and signed what they hoped was a comforting message to him. The old bug's eyebrows raised slightly but he still let out a faint chuckle. "Er, thank you, wanderer. I think I do feel a bit better." With that, he headed back to his usual spot a little ways away. Ghost hopped off the bench and poked the Grimmchild to get their attention. Then, the knight strode over to the crumbling well and lowered themselves in.

There was some business to take care of. 

* * *

For some reason, when the vessel re-entered the tent, the whole place seemed… quieter. There were no giggling ghosts flying around the hallway, no troupe members running about preparing for a show, and most importantly, no Brumm at the entrance playing haunting melodies on his accordion. Ghost found the atmosphere of the tent to be significantly more oppressive in this way. It was all too similar to other places down in Hallownest, dark, abandoned, and overall very depressing. The vessel let out an involuntary shudder as they pulled the flower out of their cloak. Compared to the soft red light of the tent, the flower's pale glow seemed even brighter than usual, and its petals seemed to sway with a nonexistent wind. It felt comforting— a bit of life in the silent tent.

At last, the hallway opened up into the arena. The lamps were dimmed, and the stands appeared to be empty. Like before, the Troupe Master himself stood in the room's center, though this time he faced the vessel rather than away from them. As the little shadow approached, Grimm murmured words of welcome and bent into a sweeping bow that the knight returned. Immediately after the two straightened up, Ghost stepped toward the master before breaking into a run. Once they reached him, the little vessel held out their new gift with trembling hands. Lit by the brightness of the bloom, the Troupe Master's expression was unreadable for a brief moment. Then his face broke into a genuine smile. He held the shimmering plant in his hand for a long while before he carefully tucked it into his own long cloak. Grimm extended a clawed hand to the other as a spark of flame lit his eyes.

"Shall we dance, my friend?"

**Author's Note:**

> OOF. This took way longer than it needed to take. My fault for doing it on and off. Again, I am not sure how much I like how this turned out. I will definitely say that it's no masterpiece. I daresay it's a bit... fast??  
Just how many times did I use the words "little" and "vessel?" Also getting into various characters' voices is more difficult than I remembered.  
I'm still a novice at this, so if you have any suggestions, critiques, or anything like that, I would be glad to hear them!  
Edit: Holy crap, I didn't expect this little fic to get as many reads as it did! I really appreciate people taking the time to read my stuff, and I also appreciate all the comments I've gotten on this fic (even if I don't reply to all of them), so to everyone who read this the whole way through: thank you so much!


End file.
